I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach. Sheppard, returning his embrace with all a parent's tenderness. White, my landlady, believes his story. We shall have Mr. S. ” John’s father added. ” “Many other people,” she remarked, “have made the same mistake. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true.
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